


Touch

by purebeanshawn



Series: Atlas: Senses [1]
Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Breakup Sex, F/M, It's good tho, Makeup Sex, Shower Sex, this is one of the filthiest things i have ever written, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 02:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11704824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purebeanshawn/pseuds/purebeanshawn
Summary: “I wanted to stay. I wanted to fight for us, but you wouldn’t let me. You just left and took the easy way out.”





	Touch

He always puts his heart in the words he writes. He feels them vibrate against his fingertips as the graphite leaves lines and squiggles in his notebook. He wants them to be perfect and has a tendency to chew on the hard end of his pencil when he just can’t get that one word in a line right. Tonight, his mouth tastes of cedar wood and coffee, keeping him up alone on the hardwood floor of his studio. Sometimes, the words just won’t come no matter what he does, and Shawn thinks that he should have accepted that fact by now, but his stubborn head won’t let him give up until he can vocalise the sensations he feels inside his body.

The song is about a girl who used to be his. It’s about the sharp pain in his chest that he felt when she had told him. When he had watched her tears run down her face as she apologised repeatedly. Later on, when she ended it, she had put on a cold façade, but he knew it was killing her inside just as much as it did him when he let her go. He was willing to fight, willing to forgive, but she wasn’t.

Even the memory of those emotions hurt and his heavy head feels like it’s going to explode, so he allows himself a break and walks leisurely to the kitchen and takes a shot of vodka, hoping it’ll help. One shot turns into two, and two into three, and so it goes until he decides that he needs to tell her the words he’s got on his mind before he can write more. Shawn has just about sobered up when he finds himself outside her door at two o’clock. She takes a long time to open, and looks utterly shocked when she sees the figure in front of her.

“Don’t do this,” she pleads, shaking her head slowly. She looks defeated as she rubs at her sleepy face.

“Do what? Love you? I can’t stop doing that.” He stills for a second, holding onto the doorframe. “You hurt me so much.” He laughs, and he realises just how sad it sounds when guilt covers her face. “But I still miss you. Even when I think of how you let him touch you, and how he probably fucked you on that couch, where we kissed for the first time.” He peers over her shoulder, pointing at a long sofa on the inside.

“You’re drunk,” she accuses with an upset voice, detecting the alcohol on his breath.

“No, but I was before I came here,” he clarifies before continuing with the words he wants her to know. “I cared for you despite what you did. I still do.” The words hurt to speak, but they are true and Shawn is never more honest than when he’s had a little to drink. It’s embarrassing, really, that he spills his guts after a few beers or a couple of shots. “Why can’t you just let me go?” He groans and she puts her hand over his mouth, muffling his next words so that they are incoherent.

“You’re loud, you smell, and I have neighbours. Get in,” she says sternly, pulling at his arm.

He complies, following her inside and when she turns away to lock the door, he kicks off his shoes, shrugs off his jacket and starts to pull off his shirt.

She gasps when she finds him bare-chested in front of her. “What are you doing?!” She whispers the words, but sounds enraged nonetheless.

“You said I smelled so I’m taking a shower.” Shawn walks right past her to the bathroom, leaving his shirt on her floor. The moment he enters, his eyes fall upon a necklace he had given her half a year ago, hanging on a jewellery tree. It looks dusty, like it hasn’t been picked up in forever. The sight and the memory feels like a punch to the gut and he falls back against the wall, hitting his head on the cold tiles.

“Shawn,” she whispers next to him.

He doesn’t want to look at her. He can’t because he knows that when he does the tears that have collected in his eyes will fall, and he doesn’t want to cry. With his eyes aimed at the floor, he pushes past her to the edge of the tub and steps in, turning on the shower. The cold water splashes against his face and he shivers as goosebumps appear on his arms and neck, but he remains stationary under the pouring water with his eyes closed. Hands find his shoulders and shake him, and he finally looks at her. She’s standing in front of him in the shower, looking distraught as water bounces off his body and hits her dry clothes.

“How could you?” Shawn says in a low voice, and wonders if he can be heard over the sound of the downpour when she doesn’t respond.

“I’m sorry,” she says eventually. “I never meant to hurt you. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I truly am sorry.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Because I knew you deserved better.”

Her words rile him up because he’s tired of her making decisions for him and disregarding how he actually feels. “You don’t!” he yells. The tears burst out without warning and melt in with the water that’s turning warmer by the second. He backs up against the wall to avoid the stream and pushes his hair back over his head. She follows him, stepping closer so that she is where the water is spraying. “You don’t know how I feel, and you don’t know what I want. I wanted to stay. I wanted to fight for us, but you wouldn’t let me. You just left and took the easy way out.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. She is a heartbreaking picture with her sad eyes, hair matted down against her head, and her t-shirt almost as soaked as his pants. But she’s also his heartbreaking picture in a part of his mind that is still in denial.

Before he sees it coming and without thinking, Shawn holds her against the wall and crashes his mouth onto hers. Hesitant lips move against his slowly, but then he’s being pushed back by his shoulders, away from her. She watches him with longing eyes but her straight arms keep him at a distance until she changes her mind and pulls him into a kiss, pushing him towards the wall. Her hands wrap around the back of his neck and his immediately move to their familiar place at her soft hips.

Fingers press into skin, leaving thick, red lines under the water. Hands pull at hair, limbs, and clothes, and Shawn is shortly naked against her barely dressed body. His muscle memory still knows how to touch her, how to kiss her to make her feel good. Somewhere between the rough kisses and the slow nips at the wet skin of her neck he starts to think, and then he stills. He buries his face in her shoulder and breathes erratically against her neck, just holding her as his eyes fill up with tears again. He already knows that there’s no return for them, but there’s a sliver of hope somewhere in him and that’s what keeps him standing there, next to her as water cascades over them. 

She turns a knob, lowering the water pressure then slides her hands down his back. He shivers from the touch and is reminded that he’s in the nude and his crotch is pressed against her hip. He backs up to look at her; the cautious look on her face, the wet hair against her head, the swell of her lips from his teeth. What he wants is right in front of him and he knows he can’t have it, but he gives in to that sliver of hope that prompts him to close in on her, and he kisses her again. His lips move to her ear and he kisses the lobe and gently tugs at it with his teeth, making her soften against him.

“One last time. Please,” he begs.

“We…” she begins to speak, but moans when Shawn attaches his lips to her neck, just below her ear and sucks. “We shouldn’t.”

Shawn pulls back at her words, knowing that it’d be wrong if he continued. He takes a step back and feels a little uncomfortable standing there naked with a semi as she pierces him with her eyes. But she moves closer and rests her firm palm on his chest, right where his heart is. Her fingers curl and her nails press against his pec, making his length twitch and he briefly has a mortifying flashback of swimming class CPR lessons when he was paired up with Wendy Steinbeck. She was clad in a tiny bikini and he had had no control of himself whatsoever.

She moves closer slowly until her slippery skin is against his again and his growing length is in between their bodies, the proximity making him harder. Their lips clash together, hands roam bodies, and fingers dig into flesh. Shawn takes a hold of the back of her thigh and picks her up, pressing her up against the tiles. Her fingers wrap around the slide bar attached to the wall quickly and she wraps her thighs around him, pulling him close.

The tip of his erection rubs up against her opening with a light pressure and he groans quietly at the simple relief, and he continues with slow motions of his hips and gets harder with every stroke of her swollen folds. She leaves his neck with purple blotches and he revels in knowing that she wants him marked.

“Let me down,” she says after a while.

She pulls him in by the neck and tugs at damp curls at the back of his head. Shawn falls into her body and catches himself with his palm against the wall, but his face still crashes into hers so that their noses collide.

“Ow!” The pair yelp in unison, then start to laugh as their eyes connect. They laugh in amusement until their laughs turns into melancholic chuckles and Shawn finds himself with his eyes closed and lips just close enough to hers for her hot breath to fan over them.

Her fingernails trace the lines on his stomach and then her hand is wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly with a firm grip. She circles her thumb around his tip where the precome has leaked but is washed away by the water, and Shawn moans at the feeling. He feels dizzy from the pleasure and steadies himself against her body, resting his face in her flushed neck. A low sound slips past her lips when Shawn opens his mouth and starts to suck on the skin on her neck, making him smile at the familiarity of her sounds. He brings a hand down to her sex, pushes her underwear aside and teases her entrance with a finger. His finger sinks into her and he draws it back slowly, sighing when she moans in bliss.

The pace of her hand around his erection quickens and he breathes harshly against her skin. Shawn wraps his fingers around her wrist, stopping her movements. She lets go of his length and it bounces back against him.

“Turn around,” he mumbles.

She turns to face the wall and he places kisses on her shoulder, removing her hair so that her neck is exposed for him to bite at. There are spots of colours on her shoulder and neck when he is done, marks apparent on her skin just like on his. Shawn pulls her hips back against him so that his length is pressed up against her soft bum. She steadies himself with a palm against the wall and reaches back to touch his erection, bringing the head to her entrance. He rubs against her slowly, then pushes into her until he bottoms out as his palm moves down her spine. Her buttocks press back against his crotch and he starts to move inside her leisurely. His lips find her shoulder again and his fingers unclasp her bra, releasing her breasts from their confines. He reaches out to her front to take a hold of her breast, stroking her nipples and tugging at them gently and she sighs in response.

They move together in sync as his mouth ravages her shoulders and the top of her back. She turns her head around for sloppy kisses and he slows his movements to languid thrusts as his tongue finds hers and the two desperately claim each other’s mouths. Their bodies move together faster again, her breathing quickens and it’s not long before she comes around him with a hushed moan. Shawn feels himself get closer and he pulls out just in time, coming onto her back as his muscles tighten and his knees shake.

“Sorry for… yeah,” he mumbles.

“It’s fine,” she responds, turning as the water washes away any sign of their actions.

The atmosphere is thick once they get out of her bathroom, both of them wrapped in towels. He follows her to her bedroom and she digs up an old jumper of his at the back of her closet and throws a pair of sweatpants to him that he thinks used to belong to him. They exchange awkward smiles and put on clothes with their backs turned to each other, saying no words. Then they face one another, only to observe, which they haven’t properly done for a long time, but words remain unspoken.

Eventually, Shawn forces himself to say something, “The sun’s up.” He looks past her at the light peeking through the blinds.

She turns to look at her window, then smiles at him. “It is.”

Then silence overcomes them again, and they’re standing six feet apart. The distance feels like torture to Shawn, and he wants to so badly kiss her again, and hold her, and make her his again. But he knows that this is the end for them.

“I should go.”

“Yeah.”

She follows him to the door and watches as he puts on his shoes. When he’s done, his hand holds onto the door handle, but she’s the closest to him that she’s been since they were in the shower together and his stubborn heart still wants more. His eyes flit between her and her lips and she mirrors the action. So he goes for broke; his hands find her cheek and waist and she is swiftly pushed against the door and kissed with all the passion that he can muster. His lips tingle from her rough teeth and tongue as their lips battle. Then he is pulled back to reality and he kisses her slowly, savouring the moment. He pulls back and exhales softly against her lips, giving her room to breathe. She doesn’t chase his touch, doesn’t ask him to kiss her again.

“Do you wanna get breakfast?” He asks this hesitantly, because part of him knows what the answer is, but he still does.

Her silence and the way she looks him in the eye provide the answer he had expected. She moves away from the door and opens it for him. He backs out through it, taking in all of her.

“Goodbye,” she says.

When he gets back home, the words come naturally. The melodies follow right behind accompanied by the notes on his piano. Shawn feels the tune vibrate against his fingertips that press down on the strings of his guitar, and he has a song. His eyes tear up when some lyrics hit so close to home that they tug at his heartstrings. By 7 am he’s singing loud enough to wake up his neighbours, but for once he doesn’t care, because he’s at peace.

He’s just shuffled in underneath his covers when he hears a tone from his phone and it lights up with her name on it.

Fuck.


End file.
